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skelavender · 1 month

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“Still, my mom is going to imply…” “I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.” Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases. “At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” OR After a year of platonic marriage, things start to change.

read chapter one of you are in love on ao3, or below the cut!

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

***

November 1996

There are flowers on Mulder’s desk.

A bouquet of… well, Mulder’s not great with flowers, but they’re all purple. There’s lavender, he knows that, and what he’s guessing are violets and irises. The last he can’t recognize, but it looks like a purple daisy. Maybe it is just a purple daisy? He didn’t know they made those.

As he steps further into the office, he notices Scully behind the desk. She had been gone when he woke up, which was unusual for them, but had left a note on the coffee maker saying she had some errands to run before work and she would meet him there. It was folded and in his pocket.

“Good morning,” she greets.

“Hey. Who sent you flowers?”

Scully raises one eyebrow and a small smirk graces her face, a challenge. “Check the card.”

He looks at her with curiosity and approaches the desk. He plucks the card out of the little fork, and when he unfolds it, he blinks dumbly a couple times.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart.

Oh.

It wasn’t as though he’d forgotten. Of course not, not in a million years. Her gift is waiting at home, on top of the bookshelf in their home office where she could neither see nor reach. That was part of why he’d been disappointed when he woke up to a cold bed. He had wanted to give it to her before work, but she left before he got the chance. He had ordered personalized stationery for her, paper being the traditional gift for a first wedding anniversary, from a store down in Rosslyn. They have Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D. letterpressed across the top in green, with a notepad to match.

“I don’t think anybody has ever gotten me flowers before.” He notes with a dreamy tone to his voice. Scully has impressed him.

Her satisfied expression softens. “I’m glad I could be the first.”

“Thank you, Scully. I love them.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God,” he laughs and ducks his head. “I can’t believe it’s been a year. It’s flown by.”

“It has, hasn’t it.”

“It seems like just last month we were averaging a hospital visit every two weeks.”

Scully snorts, “Not that we’re that far off.”

Mulder chuckles, and rounds the desk to peck her cheek. “I didn’t forget, by the way. Your gift is at home. I’ll give it to you this evening.”

“I didn’t think you had.” She mirrors the small kiss and Mudler retreats to the chair Scully usually sits in. If she wants the desk today, she can sure as hell have it.

***

Scully pulls up outside her mother’s house and parks the car. She’s unbuckling her seatbelt when his hand shoots out and stops her. Her eyes shoot up to meet his, one brow raised.

He’s been thinking about it since Maggie called him to extend the invitation to the dinner. When they were first discussing getting married, Scully was concerned about her mother finding out. She had mentioned to him that she didn’t think her mother would keep the secret, but he suspected that she was afraid she wouldn’t approve of what was essentially a sham union.

But Mulder wears his ring, and people tend to be curious.

Most of the time he can get away with vague answers that aren’t really lies, but he knows Mrs. Scully would grill him about it. He can only answer so many questions by talking about Scully without really talking about Scully before her mother notices.

“Your mom still doesn’t know, right?”

Scully knows what he’s talking about immediately. “No. Only that we’re living together.”

He slips his ring off his finger and holds it out to her, “Will you hold onto this for me?” Her mouth forms a little O. “She’ll have questions. There are only so many ways I can skirt them.”

“Of course,” she says. Her hands trace the neckline of her cardigan. He’s about to ask what she’s doing as he’s still holding the ring out to her in a flat palm, until the gold chain pops out and she undoes the clasp.

It would be so easy to forget about it. That she also wears the ring. That their union isn’t one-sided. That she’s as intertwined with him as he is with her. She wears it openly at home, sometimes, but the necklace remains hidden when they’re out and about. Despite that, Mulder, with a possessive streak that he tries to damp down, remembers. The image of her ring laid against her chest, or the fleeting vision of it on her finger for a couple days in the hospital, is settled into its own corner of his mind. He thinks of it more often than he’d like to admit.

Scully plucks the ring from Mulder’s hand and slides it onto the chain. It clinks into place next to hers. Two hearts, strung together.

“Thank you for mentioning that, I hadn’t considered it,“ The thought of hiding you hadn’t crossed my mind, she doesn’t say. She tucks the necklace back into her shirt and goes to unbuckle her seatbelt again. “You ready?”

Mulder nods, and they approach the Scully residence.

“She does think that we’re dating, you know.” Scully says as they walk up the pathway side by side.

“Really?”

“I tried to explain we’re living together because of the convenience, but she was not convinced.”

Mulder’s hand goes to the small of Scully’s back as she does up the couple steps onto the porch. “I’m not surprised. She always seemed to think we were…”

“I know. But now she’s pretty damn sure of it.”

“You did your best.”

Scully wonders how different things would be if they were… romantically entangled. Would he have fought her mother’s Thanksgiving invitation so hard? Would his hand be in hers, or around her shoulders, instead of on her back? Would he drop a kiss onto her lips on her mother’s front porch before facing the crowd inside?

She steps back and her eyes crawl up and down Mulder’s form. One of the buttons on his shirt doesn’t match, she notices. The cleaner would have attached a closer match, so he must have done it himself.

Who had taught him to sew a button? It’s not a skill she would expect him to have. She can’t exactly picture his mother sitting him down to teach him. Every time Scully thinks she finally knows Mulder, finally understands him, something new surfaces that makes her rethink him.

Scully sucks in a breath and refocuses. “Still, she’s going to imply…”

“I know. It’s not serious. I mean, it’s not like we’re married or anything.”

Scully chuckles and pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Now that’s not going to help dissuade the rumors, Agent Scully.” He teases.

“At this point, I don’t think there’s any hope.” She rings the bell.

“Dana! Fox! Oh, it’s so good to see you both.” Maggie swings the door open and greets them with her usual warm, excited smile. She takes each of them in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs Scully.”

Maggie slaps his arm playfully. “You call me Maggie, Fox, how many times do I have to tell you.”

“Alright Maggie.” Mulder smiles at his shoes. Mulder fucking loves Maggie Scully. She offers affection so freely, in a way Mulder isn’t used to experiencing, especially not in a familial manner. He wasn’t raised with this, with hugs hello and being allowed to call friends’ parents by their first names. It’s foreign to him. She’s been trying to get him to call her Maggie since she started feeding him while Scully was gone, but it had never stuck.

“Bill and Charlie are in the living room, why don’t you two go sit with them while I check on the bird?“ Maggie offers.

“Tara and Marcel couldn’t make it?”

“No, Tara decided to go to her parents last minute, and Marcel is, well, Polish, so he didn’t want to come back over with Charlie for an American holiday.” Maggie winks at her daughter. “You’re the only one who brought a partner this year, Dana.”

“Mom, that’s not—“ Scully sighs and runs a hand over her forehead in exasperation before deciding to just drop it. “I’m surprised Charlie was able to get the time off, he usually isn’t.”

“I’m not teaching this semester,” a new voice explains, Mulder turns around to face a burly looking redhead. “I’m focusing on research and writing. Makes it a bit easier to get away for American holidays.” He turns to Mulder and offers a hand, which the agent takes. “You must be the Agent Mulder I keep hearing about in Dana’s emails. Charlie Scully.”

“That would be me. It’s good to meet you.”

“Dana says you just go by Mulder?”

“With a first name like mine, you’d go by anything else.”

Charlie laughs, “So tell me, Mulder, has Dana ever told you about what happened at her senior prom?”

“No, she has not.” Mulder replies, tone keen and interested. He turns to his partner, “Scully, am I about to unlock embarrassing childhood stories?”

“Charlie, you promised you would never tell anyone!”

Charlie taps his fingers together conspiratorially, and begins regaling Mulder with the story as they enter the living room.

Upon introduction to Bill, Mulder understands why Scully had laughed so hard at a joke he once made about the two of them having an affair. Bill hides his contempt for Mulder poorly, with a pinched smile as they shake hands and the occasional glare. When Maggie calls them into the dining room to gather for the meal, Mulder sticks to his Scully’s side and Bill settles himself on the other end of the table, at the head.

“Mom, that was delicious,” Scully says as she pushes her chair back. She then turns to Mulder, “Should we get on the dishes?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Dana.” Maggie protests, rising from her seat.

“You cooked us an amazing meal, Mrs. Scully, please let us clean up.” Mulder places a hand on her shoulder to encourage her to stay in her seat and converse with her sons, and he and Scully retreat to the kitchen with piles of dishes in hand.

“You wash, I dry and put away?” Scully offers, and Mulder nods.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he says after a few moments of quiet washing. “I was afraid it would be awkward. I mean, Bill doesn’t seem to like me very much, but Charlie seems nice.”

“I can’t believe he told you about Marcus.” Scully laughs, “That story is so embarrassing.”

“I’m just glad to have finally earned your embarrassing childhood stories. It’s like I’ve reached the next level of friendship.”

Scully snorts. “Right, Mulder. Step one is they bail you out of jail, step two is they shoot you, three is get married, four is buy a home together, and five is learn about their senior prom. That’s the natural order of things.”

Maggie watches from the other room as Mulder tilts his head back to let out a full belly laugh. Dana elbows him, and he deposits a smear of suds onto her nose in response. As she observes the ensuing playful water fight, Maggie can’t help but hope they soon see what she does, what she’s sure Charlie has picked up on as well, what Bill might still be unaccepting of. There’s so much affection between the two of them. Dana looks up at Fox with a look that she’s never seen on her daughter’s face before, one filled with raw affection. Maggie can tell that whatever they have, it’s coming to a head. Something is there. Everything is there, glowing between them.

Plus, Fox has a thin strip of paler skin on his fourth finger of his left hand, right where a wedding ring would lie.

next chapter ->

#LTWrites #LTW: you are in love #fics #fall into place series #the x files #todayinfic #.txt

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justice-for-queequeg · 29 days

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Come Back With a Warrant (9146 words) by JusticeForQueequeg Chapters: 9/9 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully Characters: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder Additional Tags: Courtroom Drama, Original Character(s), Past Violence, Minor Violence, POV Original Character, MSR, completed work, quasi-casefile Summary:

Mulder and Scully revisit a murder case they closed months ago, this time in the courtroom. The killer is already behind bars, awaiting trial, but they must face now face new adversaries: the killer's attorney and the 4th Amendment. Told from a third-person perspective. Takes place sometime in Season 5 after Detour.

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For the first time ever, I have posted my fic publicly!

I wrote this totally unseriously while studying for my criminal procedure midterm. I am a bit of a law nerd and always notice when TV cops conduct illegal searches. So, I thought it might be a fun little writing exercise to write a courtroom drama.

Tagging @today-in-fic

Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to start actually posting my writing!

#txf #x files #msr #x files fanfic #fanfic #the x files #todayinfic

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katy-kt-katie · 9 months

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“Bar Confessions”

Unrated / MSR

Tuesdays were slow; a small handful of regulars asking for a standard American draft beer, tipping a dollar here or there. He’d started coming in on Tuesdays a few months ago—not every Tuesday, but enough of them that it had become predictable, enough that I looked forward to his visits breaking up the monotony of the shift.

He’d sit at the bar, usually with a few files in his hands. At first, I thought he was a lawyer, given his suit and tie, but I’d learned a few weeks ago that he was an F.B.I. agent; he’d stepped in and helped when a woman had gotten drunk and rowdy and started to threaten the regulars.

I liked him—he was smart, often talking about science and space, and he was handsome, with a chiseled chin and stormy green eyes. When I talk, I feel like he’s really listening. He’s not arrogant like many of the men I serve; he was quite sweet, actually. He always asks me to surprise him with whatever drink I want to make, saying he doesn’t care; he just needs to be somewhere on Tuesdays.

***

The bar bustled with people on Fridays , groups of colleagues and friends drunkenly laughing and smiling as they shuffled in and out. Buckets of beers and rounds of shots giving a sense of community to all the patrons filling the walls.

Except for her, I noticed her the first time she came in—several months ago. She sat at the bar and kept to herself, always ordering a gin and tonic and quietly swirling it with the stirrer while she read journals—medical journals, I’d learned. I’d seen man after man attempt to buy her a drink or strike up a conversation—and I understood why. She’s beautiful, with soft blue eyes and striking red hair; I don’t think she realizes just how stunning she is since she always seems surprised by these advances. She always turned them down.

***

Last Tuesday , I got up the courage to ask him if he wanted to grab a drink with me on some night other than a Tuesday at some bar other than here. The awkward smile on his face answered my question faster than his lips could. “That’s so kind of you, but I’m really busy with work and,” he’d stopped talking and sighed.

“You have a girlfriend?” I asked. “It’s okay.”

“Not exactly,” he’d said.

And then, in a tale as old as time, he bared his soul to a bartender because that’s what people do. He loved his coworker. She’s incredibly smart and so sexy, and I always think about her , he’d said. He told me he came in on Tuesdays because that was the night she went to church meetings with her mother, and he hated being home alone, knowing he couldn’t call her and she wouldn’t call him.

“Have you told her how you feel,” I asked, serving him the martini I thought he needed tonight.

“No,” he laughed, “Absolutely not. There are rules against us being together like that—at work—and I don’t think she feels the same way.”

“And nothing has ever happened?” I asked.

He looked reluctant, his eyes shooting from mine to stare into his drink. “One time, I almost kissed her, and she looked terrified.”

“So you stopped?”

“No,” he scoffed. “A fucking bee stung her before I even had the chance.”

“A bee?” I said, grabbing a refill on a draft for a regular as I continued to talk. “What are the chances.”

“And now my ex-girlfriend is working with us, and that’s causing friction too.”

“Ah,” I said. “And you aren’t interested in your ex-girlfriend?”

“I’m only interested in one woman—my partner. That is why, as sweet as you are, I can’t agree to hang out in good conscience. My heart is with her.”

“I get it,” I smiled. It was okay; it truly was. “You’re just cute, is all.”

He blushed and smiled, throwing a twenty on the bar. “I wish she thought so.”

***

Two Fridays ago, she came in particularly alive—feisty, combative; I didn’t know her quite well enough to put a name to it. She drank her gin and tonic in half the time as usual and quickly ordered another one.

I filled a bucket with beers for a bachelorette party in the corner, cleared some cash off the bar from a group that had just left, and then headed back to her with drink number two.

“So what’s the occasion,” I asked, “you seem to be hitting it a little hard tonight.”

“It’s a long story,” she said.

“Try me,” I offered. She sighed. “Hey, Ralph, I’m taking my break,” I yelled to the other bartender.

I offered her a hand, and she followed me to the back alley. “So what’s going on? You alright,” I asked as I pulled a cigarette from my shirt pocket.

“I’m in love with my co-worker,” she said, looking at me shyly as if to check for any judgment.

“Okay. And something must have happened today?”

“His ex-girlfriend is back in the picture and trying to get back together with him.”

“Okay. Hold on. Back up. Does he know you like him?” I asked.

“No, definitely not,” she chuckled. “We aren’t allowed to be together like that anyway, it’s against our work policy.”

“Aren’t you a doctor?” I said, taking a drag off the cigarette. “If so—one, please don’t judge me for this habit,” I teased, holding up my cigarette. “And for two, I thought all the doctors were in relationships like on E.R.” She smiled and reached her hand toward mine, asking for a puff. I grinned and offered it to her.

“I am a doctor,” she said taking a long drag. “But I don’t work as a doctor, and also, I share this habit…very occasionally, when I’m stressed,” she smiled.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“F.B.I. Agent,” she said as if it was a regular job like a banker or a teacher.

“F.B.I. Agent?” I repeat. “Wow. You are very hot, do you know that? No offense, but all these men hit on you Friday after Friday. I wondered why you were never interested,” I take another drag, “it turns out you are into your co-worker, but it also turns out you are even hotter than I thought or these men thought because you are a doctor and work for the F.B.I.?”

She laughed. “I guess so. But it’s not enough for him. He’s never really tried anything with me—it’s been years.”

“Never? I find that hard to believe,” I said. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out, actually. But I get that your mind is on someone else.”

She smiled, not answering, but it was clear to me that her answer would be no. “He tried to kiss me once. I thought it was going to happen, and the whole thing felt like slow motion. I was so nervous, after all these years, panicking about how I wanted to make it good. I wanted it to be the best kiss he’d ever had.”

“And?” I ask.

“And I got stung by a bee just as his lips were grazing mine,” she reached her hand up and stroked a finger across her lip, almost like she could recall the feeling.

“And now his ex?”

“Well, she was back before that happened, but now she’s really back and around more, and I’m pretty sure he’s spending time with her.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“These Friday nights—he says he’s going to his friends, but I’m guessing he’s with her. That’s why I come here—I don’t want to be alone.”

“Maybe you need to talk to him about it?” I offer.

“Maybe,” she smiled, taking one more puff on the cigarette. “Thanks for this—the chat, I mean. I’m going to take off.”

She handed me a twenty and walked off.

***

During football season, Sundays at the bar were packed; tons of Washington fans filled the walls, chanting the fight song for hours on end. I started to clean up as the masses dwindled, a close loss taking the air out of the party. Marty, a friend for years, was on shift with me that day, and we hadn’t caught up in weeks.

We bantered as we washed pilsner glasses, him reminding me of our pact to get married if we were both single at thirty-five.

“There was a regular that I see, that I had my eye on,” he teased, handing me a freshly cleaned glass to dry and put away.

“Oh yeah?” I joked back, “Looks like a Barbie?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Pretty redhead, brilliant, but she’s in love with her co-worker. Guy hasn’t made a move on her, and it’s been years. Tried to kiss her once, but you won’t believe this—a bee—”

“Stung her?” I asked, shocked. My hand flew to my mouth in surprise.

“Yeah!” he said. “You’ve heard this story?”

“Funny enough, a regular I have a little crush on told me the same story,” I squinted at him, curious. “Your girl—the redhead—she isn’t an F.B.I. agent, is she?”

His eyes grew wide.

****

And that’s how Marty and I found ourselves the following Sunday , anxious with anticipation after we’d talked his regular and my regular into coming in. He told her his mom desperately needed medical advice. I told him my ex-boyfriend planned to stop in town and usually gave me trouble. We felt bad for the lies, but they were necessary. They agreed to show up around noon.

Luckily, the football team had a late game, so the bar wasn’t too busy yet.

She walked in first, taking a seat on her normal stool. Marty was right; she was beautiful, and I see why my regular was into her; she didn’t even realize it. Marty told her his mother was running a few minutes late and made her a gin and tonic on the house.

He walked in about five minutes later, and the absolute heat, the friction, the intensity that bounded between them when their eyes connected was like nothing I’d ever seen.

“Mulder,” she’d said. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend Kim,” he gestured to me, “Needed help with a problematic ex. What are you doing here?”

“Marty,” she pointed at him, “his mom needed medical advice. Mulder, do you come here often?”

He sat beside her, the question unanswered as I distracted them with a shot of tequila each.

“Drink this. Trust me,” I said.

They both shrugged and downed the amber liquid before Marty, and I started in on our explanations.

“See, I have this regular,” he held his palm toward her, “sweet girl, very smart and sexy, but when I showed her a little interest, she’d admitted to me that she’s in love with her co-worker. There is no one else she could be interested in.”

The girl—Dana, I’d learned—looked like a deer in headlights, so I jumped right in, grabbed her hand, and talked to her directly.

“And I have this regular,” I nodded my head towards him while I held her eyes. “Smart, handsome guy. I asked him out once, but it turns out he’s also in love with his co-worker.”

They both took deep breaths, neither looking at the other.

“Mine said her co-worker tried to kiss her once, then a bee stung her,” Marty continued.

“And mine said when he tried to kiss her, she looked scared, and then a bee stung her.”

“I wasn’t scared, Mulder; I was just so nervous,” she admitted, finally turning to him. “I wanted it to be perfect because it’s you.”

He looked at her with a big smile, but they were both silent. “Another shot of tequila?” Marty asked.

“No,” Mulder said, staring into her eyes and taking her hands. “I want us both to be sober when I kiss her,” he smiled as he turned to us and threw forty dollars on the bar, “There aren’t any bees around here, are there?”

“No,” Marty laughed.

“Then forgive me; I don’t want to waste another second,” he said, his eyes back on hers. He leaned into her slowly, like something out of a movie, and her lips parted and eyes closed just as their noses brushed. It was a passionate kiss—it felt so private, almost elicited a feeling in me like I was watching a peep show, but I understood these two just needed to get the ball rolling and stop pushing their feelings down.

Marty and I turned to wash dishes just as I saw his tongue push inside. I could still hear the smacking of their lips and a small moan from her.

“You really like me, Scully. Like, like me, like me?”

“Yeah. So much,” she whispered. “But I thought…”

“What?” he asked. So sweetly.

“I thought you and Diana.”

He chuckled. “No. No, I want this. I want you. I’ve been coming here on Tuesdays to drown my sorrows, worried that your mom would finally find some accountant at church that would steal you away.”

“No one could steal me away,” she said. I heard them kissing again, the sounds changing like maybe he was kissing her neck now. “So you are really with the Gunmen on Fridays? That’s when I’d come here, worrying you were with her.”

“Really with the Gunmen,” he said, and Marty and I shot each other a confused glare about why he hung out with gunmen, but then again, they are F.B.I. agents.

“Mulder,” I heard her say in a sweetly seductive voice.

“Scully, can I get you out of here? Go to your place or wherever you want?”

“Yeah, my place.”

I turned at that, hoping to say goodbye. Mulder smiled at me as she whispered something secret in his ear. “Me too, I want that too,” he said to her; she was glowing.

“Thanks, you two,” Mulder said as they stood from their stools, and he wrapped his arms around her. “We owe you.”

“Ain't love grand,” Marty said as they stepped through the door and onto the street.

“For some,” I teased.

“Why haven’t you let me take you out? Remind me?” he said, reaching his hand to find mine in the hot soapy water.

“We aren’t thirty-five yet,” I answered.

“Why wait?” he said, stroking his fingers along the inside of my palm.

***

We hadn’t seen them in months; we hoped they were happy and healthy and onto a new start together. Finally, one stormy Sunday , they walked in together, hand-in-hand, and sat at the bar.

“Hey,” I said, happily. “We were wondering about you two. It seems all is well?”

Marty came around the corner and seemed just as excited.

“Hey, Kim. All is really good,” Mulder said. “Listen, this is a secret because of our work, but we felt you two should know. We are eloping. It just feels—” he turned to look at her.

“Feels right,” she said, completing his sentence. “We just wanted to thank you, it’s all because of you.”

“I have a feeling you two would have figured it out eventually,” I teased.

“Just like we did,” Marty added.

Mulder’s head turned in interest. “Wait, you two?”

I smiled and showed off the diamond ring on my finger. “We eloped a month ago. You two are taking it too slow; I guess,” I teased.

“Congrats,” they said to us. After a celebratory shot, they left. I realized we might never see them again, but alls well, that ends well, I thought, as Marty leaned in to kiss me.

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#the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #todayinfic #today-in-fic #today in fic #mulder and scully #bartender

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agentwhalesong · 1 year

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Breakfast

Her backside on the cold marble of the kitchen sink only arouses her more as he desperately fills her with himself, his cock touching every nerve ending it can find on its way in. Has she ever moaned like this, completely out of control of her own voice?

He is watching every move her hip makes, groaning as she brings him even deeper by hooking her legs around his waist, heels pressing softly against his lower back. His eyes seem to turn from dark green to dark orange – the most beautiful fire she has ever seen – when she reaches between them, slowly caresses her clit, and lets out a lustful sigh as he grips her thigh in response.

“So good, so, so good”, he breathes out, pumping into her once more, making her close her eyes at last and bury her nails into his biceps.

They are still getting to know each other’s bodies like this, seeing what the mind could only imagine before, touching with the sole intention of getting a reaction in return. Even so, they are almost always so in sync that it seems they have been doing this for longer than just two weeks.

He pulls out a little, stills his movements, dedicates his mouth to her neck, taking his time. His tongue reaches her ear, explores all her sensory receptors, almost makes her burst right there.

"I need you to be inside me when I come", she hums, grazing her teeth down his cheek..

She moves her hip forward, urging him to slide back in and give her the release she needs.

He groans as her cunt welcomes him back, throbs around his cock, sends waves of electricity throughout her body and probably his, too.

She wants this to last forever, but she knows she has to let go, just let the feeling overwhelm her to the point she forgets her own name.

He buries himself to the hilt, holds her in place as he thrusts faster, as he fucks her the way she has always wanted him to fuck her.

And it's the realization that her fantasy has impossibly come true that does the trick. She cries out as her body shudders, as one of his hands holds one of her breasts and kneads it while he goes after his own orgasm. She helps him get there by meeting him thrust for thrust, even though her body is threatening not to obey her anymore. She can't get enough, that’s the truth.

She gyrates her hips once, twice, three times. He is coming so hard inside of her that he lets out the loudest moan she has ever heard from him while visibly trying to avoid collapsing on top of her.

It takes them both some time to catch their breaths, to sadly unglue their bodies, but when it happens, a huge smile takes over their faces as they rest – Scully sitting properly onto the sink now and Mulder standing in front of her, between her still open legs.

He leans forward, kisses her lips softly, pushes some tousled hair behind her ear, strokes her jaw with his thumb.

“I believe we came here for breakfast, didn’t we?,” he smirks, before kissing her again.

“Best breakfast I’ve ever had,” she replies, brushing her lips on his as she speaks.

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This ficlet/scene was also posted on ao3

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files fanfic #mulder and scully #mulder and scully fanfiction #the x files #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder #xfiles fanfic #mulder and scully fanfic #todayinfic #x files fanfic #mulder x scully

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whathappenstotheheart · 19 days

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First X-File fic, woot woot!

It might be April but I'm still trying to work my way through the Storytelling Collective's Flash Fiction February prompts, and this quote for day 19 made me think of Skinner and the end of Without (S08E02) and my headcanon that he dreams of being in a featureless void a lot.

Anyway, it's just a wee thing but I'm pretty happy with it!

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3fic #x files #the x files #walter skinner #dana scully x walter skinner #storytelling collective's flash fiction february #scully x skinner #todayinfic #xf fic #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #xfiles #txf

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muldxr · 5 months

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la petit mort | msr | cancer arc, 1.6k, explicit | @today-in-fic

Intimately aware of her mortality, she's asked you to prove your worth to her.

#todayinfic #txf fanfic #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #mulder x scully #my fic #WELL. UM.... you know.. yeah ok bye #this concept has been rooted in my brain since i rewatched s4 a month ago. i finally did it 🥸

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sapphirebones-ao3 · 5 months

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warning buzz

read on ao3

Rating: Explicit

Chapter 2/3

Summary:

With all her layers of perfectly tailored suits and heavy kevlar stripped away, she arches into him like hands in prayer, and he feels born anew, awash in the holy water of her. Her, her, her.

Tagging: @today-in-fic (hope this is okay!)

“Take–” she gasps, trying to catch her breath between his bruising kisses “ –take it off, Mulder” his hands span higher up her shirt, sliding it off and onto the floor.

His hands can’t get enough of her, her cold porcelain skin heating under his touch. He wants to map every inch of her, investigate her like the forgotten files deep in the archives of the Hoover building, he wants to mark and highlight every mole and scar and blemish on her canvas of a body. His tongue runs down her jaw, suckling at the spot under her ear, earning him a whimper.

He continues his exploration, feeling almost like his younger self at Quantico studying the human body, learning its weak spots. Jugular, clavicle, sternum. Her heart flutters under his tongue like a hummingbird, and all he can think about is how delicate and birdlike she feels in his arms, under his mouth. With all her layers of perfectly tailored suits and heavy kevlar stripped away, she arches into him like hands in prayer, and he feels born anew, awash in the holy water of her. Her, her, her.

Scully’s puffs of breath encouraging him further, he runs his fingers along the edge of her bra, sliding underneath and lightly feeling the mound of her breast– he skirts higher, grazing the edge of her nipple, feeling it harden under his feather-light touches, and he shudders. “Scully–” he catches his breath, lifting his mouth from her skin, “Scully, can I see you? Plea–” she takes his head in her hands and bends down to kiss him soundly, “Mulder, you’re the only one who’s–” her mouth chases his lips like a ship to shore, “ –the only one who’s ever seen me.”

She makes quick work of the clasp on her bra, Mulder’s hands following her movements. His mouth makes its way to her breast before the cups even hit the carpet, and he tests the weight of the other with his free hand, the cast digging into her skin.

She knows it’ll probably leave a mark, a scratch from the gauze, but that only makes her squirm harder. She wants this to feel real tomorrow, wants to have a reminder that it wasn’t just another spore-induced dream, she hopes the next time she showers, that the scratches sting under the boiling hot water.

The sensation of his mouth laving over one nipple while his hand plays with the other is almost too much, and she arches and heaves underneath him, her bare skin coming into contact with his still clothed chest. “Mulder. Mul–” she tugs at his shirt and tries to push him back, he sucks harder and she lets out a strangled whine. “Mulder, I want to feel you.” She manages to pant out, and he lifts his head up to give her his signature smirk, licking over her one last time to make her jump.

She helps him out of his shirt, struggling with the sling, and he takes the opportunity to look over his work on her chest, its once white expanse covered in red blotches and tracks of saliva. She looks beautiful like this, panting and wanton, and he lifts his gaze up to look at her, noticing her staring.

“Scully, you’re amazing.” he whispers.

She hums and runs her hands up and down his chest, fingers curling in his chest hair and rising up to his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kisses her forehead and lifts her off his lap with one arm curled around her waist, he revels in the feel of her, the weight of her in his hold. Setting her down underneath him on the couch, he goes back to charting her skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at every inch of flesh he can reach. Venturing lower, running his tongue into her navel, following her iliac crest lower still, he gently kisses along the edge of her trousers and skims his hand under the band, before resting his head on her stomach.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, breathing the words into her skin, “We could still stop if you wanted to.” he adds, looking up at her, eyes half-lidded.

“Mulder, if you stopped right now I think I’d shoot you again.” she says, moving her hands into his hair.

“I trust you. You don’t always have to ask.” she continues, running her fingers down to his jaw, letting her thumb skim his lower lip. He presses a sweet kiss to its pad and lets his eyes droop closed, contentment washing over him like a honeyed balm.

“I just want– I want you so much, Scully. I don’t want to rush this.”

“I think seven years is enough time.” she smiles softly, taking his hand and guiding it to the top button of her jeans.

Their intertwined fingers make short work of the button and zipper, each scraping tooth ringing out in the silence between breaths. Mulder’s cast digs into her again and it sets her alight, she pushes him away slightly just to shimmy her pants down to her knees, and kicks them off the rest of the way.

“Please, Mulder.” she sighs, bringing her hands up to his jaw and pulling him up for a deep kiss before letting him go.

To Mulder, this all feels like a dream. He can’t believe she’s letting him touch her, much less like this. His hands envelop her thighs and he barely suppresses a groan as he sees the gusset of her panties soaked through to the outside, he grinds his own pelvis down into the couch’s worn leather to relieve some of the pressure in his jeans, he feels like a seven year ticking time-bomb down to its last moments.

Taking a deep breath to pace himself, he glances up at Scully one last time for confirmation, her slight nod giving him the go-ahead he needed. His good hand trembles as he pushes it under the fabric, the tips of his fingers coming into contact with her trimmed curls, damp from the slickness just below. He thinks he could come right then and there if this were just his fantasy, but she’s right there beneath him, panting and trembling in anticipation.

“Fuck– Scully–” he breathes, his fingers gliding lower and into her folds, he maneuvers his body down the couch and brings his head between her legs. Uncomfortably setting his cast on the outside of her thigh, while his other hand works to remove her panties, sliding them down her legs.

“You’re so wet.” he murmurs, trailing his thumb slowly from her perineum all the way up to her clit, resting there and making her flinch. His index finger flutters against her opening, before finally pushing in. He feels her clench against him almost immediately, and it makes him dizzy.

She arches her pelvis into his hand, her breathing growing ragged as he starts thrusting, adding another finger and burying them to the knuckle. Her panting fills the room as an awe-filled Mulder catalogues every new sound and move she makes under him. Her walls flutter around him when he curls his fingers like this, he earns a whimper when he circles her clit like that.

He lifts his eyes to watch her and sees her eyes close and eyebrows crease beautifully, and, though he’s sad to no longer see the sky blue of her irises, he’s amazed he’s causing her to look like that. “Mul– Mulder I–” she manages to gasp out, and he can tell she’s close. “I need–”

They’ve known each other for so long that he can understand her most minute expressions, an eyebrow raise or a quirk of the mouth could substitute entire conversations, he’s never had this kind of connection to another person. This little trick comes in handy, now.

At her gasped out plea, he moves his mouth to her and laves his tongue over her folds, slowing his fingers but curling them harder against her front wall. His mouth envelops her clit and he feels her entire body shudder, her hips rising up to meet him and her thighs clamping around his head. She tastes like bread, and salt, and something so uniquely Scully he feels like he can’t get enough of her. His tongue circles her clit in time with his thrusting and suddenly little choked moans fill the air, and he feels a gush of wetness cover his chin as she finally unravels.

When her shaking finally subsides, and her thighs are no longer crushing his head, he withdraws his fingers and presses a kiss to her clit, before wrapping his arm around her lower back and lifting her up to sit on his lap. He kisses her closed eyelids and the tip of her nose, so overwhelmed by his love for her he can barely comprehend it.

She falls against his chest, and he takes the opportunity to slide his arm under her knees, supporting her back with his injured arm as he stands from the couch and brings them both to her bedroom, pulling back the covers and depositing her like a princess onto the bedspread.

Scully. Naked. In bed. With a blissed out expression. Looking up at him.

She motions for him to come join her, patting the spot beside her and he sidles in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, breathing her in. Her hands drift to his and she threads their fingers together, bringing them up to her chest and holding them there before turning to face him. Her eyes roam over his face, seeming to file every mole and line she can find there for future reference, jumping from one freckle to the other like skipping stones.

Scully kisses him then, gently tilting her face up and lightly brushing her lips against his, her fingers coming up to run through his hair and rest on his cheek.

“Hi,” she says, softly, as if speaking too loud would break the whole world in two.

“Hi,” he replies, kissing her once more before pulling her closer against him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and tilting her head up once more, “you’re incredible, you know that?” he breathes, punctuating his words by trailing a finger from her ear to her jaw.

“You are too, Mulder.” she answers, pulling him even closer to emphasize her point, they fit perfectly together, forms interlocking like puzzle pieces, and she feels the weight of 7 years of yearning in their embrace. She presses a kiss to the wiry hair of his chest and moves to lock her knee between his thighs, before coming into contact with the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Why are you still dressed?” she asks, incredulously, pulling away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. He’s blushing, she notices, his tawny eyes struggling to make eye contact.

“I uh– ” he casts his eyes downwards, mumbling, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I–” his hands span from her waist to her shoulders, holding her there and sighing “I’m still, y’know… hard.” he sighs, his voice trailing off. He clamps his eyes shut, cringing.

A pause.

“And that’s bad?” Scully’s voice cuts through the haze of his thoughts and he opens his eyes to find her staring at him, eyebrow raised, as if he’d just asked her to believe another one of his crazy theories.

“Mulder, I don’t know how your previous romantic encounters have been but, when a woman lets you make her come, and then lets you take her to bed–” she pauses for emphasis, taking his chin in her hand and making him lock eyes with her, “–she probably wants you to fuck her.”

“You would classify this as a romantic encounter, Scully?” he replies, flashing her his signature grin and winking.

“Mulder, you’re crazy.” she smiles, and leans in to his kiss.

#sapphirebones fic #txf fic #nsft #mulder x scully #txf #the x files #x files #dana scully #fox mulder #txf fanfic #msr #todayinfic

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cultureisdarkbeer · 1 year

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The pads of Scully’s fingers rubbed at her forehead. There was a dead body split open on the table and she had forgotten which organs she had already removed. Concentrating on the work today became more difficult as the clock slowly inched forward. With every step she took, she ached for Mulder, from Mulder, and the hours they had spent destroying the springs of her mattress. Or maybe it was the couch. Or even possibly from testing the legs of her dining room table.. then again, it could have been while draining the apartment complex of its hot water during their long shower…

@ms31x129 @today-in-fic

#txf #xfiles fanfic #xfiles #mulder and scully #txf fanfic #todayinfic #rooted in friendship #x files #today-in-fic #txf fic #msr fanfiction #msr

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xfiles-vibes · 7 months

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The first two chapters of my very first X Files fic went live a couple days ago, and I really appreciate everyone who’s taken the time to check them out!

For those who might be interested, here’s the link. Happy reading, and don’t forget to leave a comment if you liked what you saw!

#the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #samantha mulder #x files fanfiction #the lone gunmen #richard langly #John Fitzgerald byers #Melvin frohike #mulder x scully #fanfiction #todayinfic

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benoitblanc · 6 months

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ten solutions to fox mulder's problems

solution one: buy your partner a desk. not just something you find for ten bucks at the side of the road, the most elegant fucking desk you possibly can. gold-gilded nameplate, dark velvet throne. you can play battleship. she’ll sink your destroyer, and you’ll drown along with it.

(what do you do when it's your fault your partner is dying?)

read ten solutions on the ao3

#arwen writes #the x files #txf #the x files fic #txf fic #msr #msr fanfic #txf fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #todayinfic #scully x mulder

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astridncs · 2 years

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The Best Day Ever

-a little bit late oops-

Fictober 2022 — Day 8: Mulder and William have a day-out ; tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 ; also on AO3

“You sure you guys will be alright?” Scully asked for probably the third time already.

“Yes, Scully, we’ll be fine.” Mulder reassured her. “Right, buddy?” he asked turning to their four-year-old who was already bouncing off the walls with energy.

“Yeth, Daddy!” William exclaimed. He was all smiles and excitement that Scully couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, but you have to promise Mommy that you’ll be good for Daddy.” Scully said, getting down to William’s level.

William nodded his head eagerly before saying, “I pwomise, Mommy.” He had a serious look on his face that Mulder would swear made him look so much alike Scully.

“Okay, well, you guys have fun, alright?” she said. “But not too much fun.” She added, looking up to Mulder who just winked back.

“Give Mommy a big hug, buddy.” Mulder instructed William.

William softly lunged himself into Scully’s arms and she engulfed him with a hug and tons of kisses that made him giggle loudly. It was one of the sounds that made Scully’s heart soar with so much love.

“I love you, both.” She said, pressing a kiss on William’s cheek before standing up and kissing Mulder on the lips.

“And we love you too.” Mulder told her, pressing another kiss on her lips.

Scully walked them to the car, made sure they all had their stuff packed – food, first aid kit, bicycles – yes, bicycles. They were going to a trail that Mulder reassured her was safe for the both of them. She trusts him so much that she doesn’t seem to worry.

She watched her boys drive away, waving back at William who was waving to her from his booster seat and blowing her kisses. When they were out of sight, she went back inside and wondered what to do having the whole house to herself for the next couple of hours.

continue on AO3

#xffictober2022 #xf fictober 2022 #fictober 2022 #fictober2022 #todayinfic #txf #thexfiles #mulder and scully deserves their happy ending #mulder and scully #William Scully-Mulder #william does not get adopted #fanfic #astridncs #skepticsculls

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katy-kt-katie · 11 months

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Completed: "Phone Echoes"

Mulder and Scully end up on the phone accidentally while assigned apart (him with Phoebe and her with Diana!). Each chapter is paired with a flashback "Echo" scene. Season 6, rating explicit

THANK YOU: Betas @cecilysass and @xfmaweezy. AMAZING Beta help, making the story so much richer. And thanks for the Pre-read Incidental!

READ HERE on AO3.

#the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #todayinfic #today-in-fic

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phillippadgettwrites · 2 years

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Glory

Rated X / 1460 words / Posted on AO3

“No,” he says emphatically, punctuating the word with a nervous laugh. “Absolutely not.”

Her eyebrows furrow, her bottom lip pushing out into a little pout. She pivots toward him, her feet folded up underneath her and her elbow resting on the back of the couch.

“Why not?” she asks, sounding wounded.

“Scully—trust me, you don’t want to know,” he says with a self-conscious shake of his head. He keeps his eyes on the coffee table, but he feels hers burning a hole in the side of his face.

“Mulder, I’m not going to judge you. I’m just curious,” she rebutts. “Do you not trust me?”

He looks over at her sharply, finding no hint of playfulness or taunting in her expression. Her curiosity appears to be genuine, not morbid. Nonetheless, warning bells in his head tell him not to answer the question.

“Of course I do,” he says pleadingly. “But if it freaks you out—I’m afraid you may never look at me the same again.”

“It’s not…beastiality or something, is it?” she asks fearfully.

“Jesus, Scully, no,” he barks, giving her an incredulous look. “It’s not illegal or immoral, it’s just—it’s weird.”

“I can handle weird,” she says, her tone softening. “I think that should be obvious by now.”

He sighs, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

“Do you promise it won’t change how you feel about me?” he asks, hating how whiny he sounds.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could tell me that would change how I feel about you, Mulder,” she says, and he feels her hand slide over his knee in an attempt at reassurance.

He closes his eyes, swallows, says a prayer for mercy.

“Okay, it’s—do you know what a glory hole is?” he spits out.

Silence.

“Yes, I do,” she finally says, her tone careful. Measured. Emotionless.

“Well, there you go. It’s been nice knowing you,” he grumbles, slinging his arm across his eyes.

“So…,” she begins, and he can practically hear her painstakingly choosing the right words. “What is it about—that—that appeals to you?”

“Please don’t dissect it,” he begs, his belly churning. “I don’t know. I’ve intentionally never given it much thought.”

“Have you ever done it?” she asks, and he pulls his arm down, lifting his head to look at her.

Her expression is open, curious, no hint of derision or disgust.

“No,” he answers. “I don’t think of it as something I’d actually do. I just like to watch the videos, which are probably staged anyway.”

She nods, considering him.

“Thank you for telling me,” she finally says, scooting closer. “What do you want to get for dinner?”

It’s weeks later when she pauses in the doorway as she leaves the office, looking back at him with a somewhat nervous smile.

“Come by at 7:00,” she says, feigning confidence. “I have a gift for you.”

He nods, puzzled, and it’s only after he hears the elevator doors slide closed that he realizes what day it is. Leave it to him to forget his own damn birthday.

In the two hours between her invitation and his designated arrival time, his mind runs rampant with guesses as to what her gift might be. By the time he pulls the front door of her building open, he’s hoping and praying that it involves a gold bikini, even if her hair isn't long enough to replicate Leia’s cinnamon bun coiffure.

Outside her apartment door he lifts his arm to knock, but spots a small slip of paper taped above the keyhole.

Mulder, let yourself in.

His heart kicks into gear, pushing blood noisily past his ears as he fumbles in his pocket for his keys, inserting the one for her apartment into the deadbolt and slowly opening the door. He blinks rapidly, preparing himself mentally for whatever he’s about to see as he feels his groin grow heavy with anticipation.

Inside the apartment it’s quiet. The overhead lights are off, only the soft glow of a few lamps illuminating the familiar space.

“Scully?” he calls out, slipping his shoes off and setting his keys, phone, and wallet on the table by the door.

No answer.

He walks toward her bedroom, stopping abruptly when he spots a white sheet hanging over the doorway, a hole about the size of a dinner plate cut into it at roughly the height that the doorknob would be, but dead center in the door frame.

“Scully?” he says again, and her small hand appears through the hole, palm up, her index finger beckoning him closer.

A flash of heat courses through his body, setting his ears buzzing. He stares, stupefied, as she points and then beckons him again. Finally, he takes a few wobbly steps forward and she grabs him by the belt buckle, tugging him closer. She points again, this time directly at his crotch, then slices her finger slowly through the air from his belt to the bottom of his fly as though trying to lower his zipper via telekinesis.

He undoes his belt with trembling hands, pushing his slacks and boxers to his feet in one quick motion and then stripping off his dress shirt. He feels momentarily embarrassed by the fact that he’s already half-hard, but then she wraps her fist around him at the root and his brain short circuits. Slowly, gently, she coaxes him forward by the cock until it disappears into the opening of the sheet and the cool fabric brushes against his skin.

She doesn’t wait a single second before she takes him in her mouth. Wet heat envelopes him, and his hands fly to the door frame for stability as his knees quiver and threaten to buckle. He feels one hand wrapped tight around the base of his scrotum and one holding his shaft steady as her tongue glides wetly along the length of him, flicking up around the head before she delves back down.

He knows it’s her. He wants it to be her. But there’s still something about the manufactured anonymity—not knowing what she’s wearing, what exactly she’s doing or what she might do next—that feels thrilling and forbidden. He imagines her in the Princess Leia costume, red fabric pooling between her legs and the milky slashes of her thighs visible above her knees that press into the hardwood as she sucks him off. He imagines her completely naked, one hand tucked between her legs as she flicks her tongue across his head, flicking at her own clit in time. He imagines her in a little black bra and panty set that he saw in her dresser once, inadvertently, when packing her bag for a last minute overnight trip. He sees her sweet little breasts pushed up in the lacy cups, the thin scrap of fabric barely covering her cunt. He imagines one strap falling off her shoulder as she leans into him, pistoning her head rapidfire as she takes him over the edge—

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he sputters, and she doesn’t hesitate at all.

She keeps sucking firmly as he explodes in her mouth, his fingers aching from his firm grip on the door frame and his legs dissolving into jelly. She slows as he does, escorting him down until she releases him with a sticky pop and what feels like a soft kiss right on the head of his dick. He stands there, panting, as the sheet billows toward him and then her bedroom door closes behind it with a click.

He pulls up his boxers and his pants, momentarily allowing his mind to worry that somehow it wasn’t her, that he’s just done something horrible. He hears footsteps in the bathroom and suddenly she appears in the hallway behind him, her cheeks pink and a bashful smile on her mouth.

“You’re here,” she says, effectively feigning surprise, and he blinks at her, stunned. She steps up close, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him dreamily. “Happy birthday,” she coos.

He bends down to kiss her, tasting himself, bright and bleachy, on her tongue. Though he’s only just barely coming down from his orgasm, he feels a surge of new arousal. He grabs her by the ass, pulling her firmly against him as he hums into her mouth.

“I really did get you a gift,” she says between kisses, attempting to guide him into the living room.

“Later,” he says urgently, grabbing the sheet in his fist and tugging it forcefully away from the door frame as thumbtacks clatter to the floor. He walks them backwards into her bedroom, throwing her down on the bed and making her shriek. “I have something I need to give you first.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #xf fic #xf fanfic #smut #dana scully #fox mulder #xfiles #todayinfic

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 2 years

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Big Spoon

was talking to @disco-tea about my tags on this gifset by @leonardbetts and uhh... this happened.

Technically, the bed has plenty of room for both of them. Scully is lying on her side, facing away from Mulder who's also on his side, facing away. Their backs are to each other, the lights are off, and she can hear thunder outside. Lightning flashes, piercing the curtains and her mind.

Her eyes are wide open, so the white light startles her in its intensity. She tenses without meaning to at the surprise, feels Mulder's movement behind her in response to her own involuntary twitch. He's the insomniac, but she isn't sleeping either. She's too aware of the sound of his breathing, and the way his head had tracked after her hand earlier when she had touched him.

The clock on the side table reads 11:21; this case is getting nowhere and Scully is tired. Still, her eyes won't shut. She rolls over, facing Mulder's back, but doesn't say anything. This isn't the first time they've slept in the same bed, but something about this case is getting to her; getting to them both, she thinks.

She's used to people mistaking them for a couple, especially in rural areas; she's aware of their orbit around each other, the way Mulder touches her without thinking, the way she habitually leans toward him. They are an isolated pair even in crowds of people. It shouldn't be shocking, shouldn't even really affect her to know that other people might take them as more than they are.

And if she's honest — and she's feeling in a particularly honest mood tonight — a part of her wishes it was true. She is in love with her partner, likely has been at least since she was sick. He was going to kiss her in his hallway; he went to the ends of the earth to save her. She wants to believe that he feels the same way she does, but it's been months.

Something changed after Antarctica, after Diana came back. Something changed, and she wishes it hadn't.

Mulder sighs, quietly, and if she was asleep she wouldn't even know. But she's not, and she's just tired enough that some of her inhibitions have been let down. She doesn't need an excuse with no one else here; in the dark of a shared hotel room, she doesn't need to pretend she has a reason to reach out. She rolls over, facing Mulder's back.

She places a hand on his arm before she moves closer, and he turns half towards her with her name on his lips. She's too small to hold him the way she sometimes wishes he would hold her, the way he'd only done once, when she was dying and he was going to fake his death and she thought it would be the last time they had together and all she wanted was to be held. She can only wrap herself around him, press her forehead into the back of his neck and feel his heart beating against her palm.

He'd leaned into every touch earlier when she'd checked his head, and now he practically melts against her. He covers her hand on his chest with one of his, strokes his thumb across the back of it.

"You okay, Scully?" His voice is soft and whispery, tentative, and the fact that the only thing he can thinks is whether she's alright only reminds her why she's in love with him.

She almost laughs, hides her soft chuckle in the sound of thunder outside. For the first time since they'd arrived in Kroner, Kansas, she really relaxes.

"Yeah," she replies, brushing her lips against the top of his shoulder. "I'm okay."

#this is SICKENINGLY fluffy sbdjdnsksmsna #fluff? in season 6? more likely than you might think #possibly ooc but hey *shrugs*#Lu writes #txf #msr #the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #mulder and scully #mulder x scully #msr fanfic #todayinfic #txf s6 #userscully #usermoody

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